passes from a kindred power, and shines at once the beacon and the hope.  In the deepest fountain of my heart the pulses were stirred; around, above, beneath, the clinging Memory as a cloak enwrapt me.  In no one moment of coming time did I feel as I had done in time gone by.  The spirit of Idris hovered in the air I breathed; her eyes were ever and for ever bent on mine; her remembered smile blinded my faint gaze, and caused me to walk as one, not in eclipse, not in darkness and vacancy—­but in a new and brilliant light, too novel, too dazzling for my human senses.  On every leaf, on every small division of the universe, (as on the hyacinth ai is engraved) was imprinted the talisman of my existence—­she lives!  She is!  —­I had not time yet to analyze my feeling, to take myself to task, and leash in the tameless passion; all was one idea, one feeling, one knowledge —­it was my life!

But the die was cast—­Raymond would marry Idris.  The merry marriage bells rung in my ears; I heard the nation’s gratulation which followed the union; the ambitious noble uprose with swift eagle-flight, from the lowly ground to regal supremacy—­and to the love of Idris.  Yet, not so!  She did not love him; she had called me her friend; she had smiled on me; to me she had entrusted her heart’s dearest hope, the welfare of Adrian.  This reflection thawed my congealing blood, and again the tide of life and love flowed impetuously onward, again to ebb as my busy thoughts changed.

The debate had ended at three in the morning.  My soul was in tumults; I traversed the streets with eager rapidity.  Truly, I was mad that night—­ love—­which I have named a giant from its birth, wrestled with despair!  My heart, the field of combat, was wounded by the iron heel of the one, watered by the gushing tears of the other.  Day, hateful to me, dawned; I retreated to my lodgings—­I threw myself on a couch—­I slept—­was it sleep?—­for thought was still alive—­love and despair struggled still, and I writhed with unendurable pain.

I awoke half stupefied; I felt a heavy oppression on me, but knew not wherefore; I entered, as it were, the council-chamber of my brain, and questioned the various ministers of thought therein assembled; too soon I remembered all; too soon my limbs quivered beneath the tormenting power; soon, too soon, I knew myself a slave!

Suddenly, unannounced, Lord Raymond entered my apartment.  He came in gaily, singing the Tyrolese song of liberty; noticed me with a gracious nod, and threw himself on a sopha opposite the copy of a bust of the Apollo Belvidere.  After one or two trivial remarks, to which I sullenly replied, he suddenly cried, looking at the bust, “I am called like that victor!  Not a bad idea; the head will serve for my new coinage, and be an omen to all dutiful subjects of my future success.”